The missing galley
by OtterAndTerrier
Summary: [Part #4 of the "Inventory of Han Solo Kisses" series in the making, set during the trip to Bespin.] 'All right, Princess, get it out. How long till we have to turn to cannibalism' 'With this stuff, I give it a week.' - The Falcon doesn't have a galley, and Leia wonders why.


**A/N:** All right, another one done! This is Part 4 of the "Inventory of Han Solo Kisses"/Trip to Bespin Series and it goes after **When you wake up will it be alright**. You can read this as a stand-alone one-shot if you want, although events from previous installments are referenced.

I think all of the fics I've read so far give the _Falcon_ a galley, but because I'm a committed writer (kind of), when I started writing for SW I looked up the official schematics of the ship. The old design doesn't include one, and the new one does, with a note: _"Crew quarters were reconfigured to include a galley as a wedding gift for Leia Organa"_. Apparently there was an uproar when this was first released because it was taken to imply that Leia would do the cooking. Jason Fry, the person behind the idea, clarified this decision:

 _"Once I learned there would be changes to the Falcon's layout for Episode VII (...) I was determined to restore the galley to what I saw as its rightful place. But in-universe the change would have to have been made after the Battle of Endor, and I needed a reason for it. Which got me thinking about The Empire Strikes Back. Since the Falcon had no galley then, I imagined that the slow crawl from Hoth to Bespin – which probably took a few months – left Han, Chewie and Leia eating whatever horrible stuff had been in the Falcon's stores. Horrible stuff they'd have to eat off Tupperware while crammed around the gaming table, no less. Leia's a military leader, so I don't see her as finicky. But she grew up as a member of the royal house of Alderaan and served in the Imperial Senate. Those months eating Corellian TV dinners and reheated Wookiee goulash on the Falcon had to rankle – and I imagined that later they'd become a humorous bone of contention between her and Han. Plus the Falcon is Han's home – as we all cheered to hear him tell Chewie back at Celebration."_

Which is exactly the way I saw it before I even read this explanation, and the idea behind this story. I also feel very gratified knowing Jason Fry thinks the trip took a few months like the rest of us. Anyway, I've had this fic in the works for ages and it's finally done! Thank you **Tita** for the suggestions, and I hope you all enjoy this part.

* * *

 **The missing galley**

 ** _—_** ** _Deflecting kiss_**

Sitting still had never been in Leia's nature, and she'd had enough sitting during her turn at the cockpit. It wasn't like there were many activities waiting to be done when you were stuck in the middle of nowhere, on a freighter that left much to be desired, and as there was so much time to kill until they reached Bespin, she knew there would come a time when they all might be forced to sit and stare at the stars more than they wanted to.

For now, though, she'd decided to make herself useful, starting with putting together an inventory of all the provisions on board. Han had assured her hours ago that he and Chewie had replenished their supply of consumables while on Hoth, preparing for their imminent departure from the Rebel Alliance, but Leia doubted either of them had counted on spending weeks aboard the ship and with an extra passenger. In any case, she didn't have anything better to do.

There was enough to spare for any possible—and she hoped, unlikely—emergencies that might stretch their trip, but they would still have to make economies and be extra nice to Chewie. Gentle and kind as the Wookiee might be with his friends, belying appearances, Leia knew empty stomachs brought out the worst in everyone—and Chewbacca had a _very_ large stomach.

There was also the matter of the type of food they'd be living off. Leia took a look at the open cargo compartments, then down at the datapad on her lap, and sighed.

'All right, Princess, get it out,' Han drawled, dropping casually on the floor next to her. 'How long till we have to turn to cannibalism?'

'With this stuff, I give it a week,' Leia said, holding up a polystyrene foam container of dehydrated soup. She hated dehydrated soup, and the way it always clumped up at the bottom. 'Couldn't you have stored some fresh produce in here?'

Han made a sweeping gesture. 'Look around, sweetheart. Do you see anywhere to store or prepare fresh food?'

Leia twisted her mouth. 'I guess it hasn't bothered me before because I've never spent more than five days on board. And it makes sense for this old thing you call a ship not to have a galley, given its size—'

'Do you want the owner of this _old thing_ to space you?'

Leia smirked. 'But really, you'd think you'd want a galley in here.'

'It never had one.'

'You could have added it yourself,' she countered. More than half the things the _Falcon_ had weren't in the original model.

'Chewie and me are good without one,' he insisted stubbornly. 'More space for cargo. We get real food whenever we dock.'

Before she could help herself, Leia said, 'Good to know you've never been unable to dock for a month before this experience.'

Han's face hardened in warning, but she wasn't pursuing a real fight, so she gave him a small smirk before changing her argument.

'If you had a galley,' Leia insisted, shifting to stop the pins and needles on her leg and accidentally bumping Han's knee in the process, 'you could make real caf.' She held up another sealed container. 'How can you stay awake with this muck?'

Han took the cup of instant self-heating caf from her, glanced at it, and put it back down with the rest. He knew she was right; that stuff wasn't the same, and it didn't taste as good either, like most spacer food. That was all they had, though.

'I should have given it some serious thought to having you on board for so many days without your precious _real_ caf, Your Highness,' he said, pressing a hand to his heart in pretend contrition. 'Please, forgive me.'

'You really are a moon jockey,' Leia said, shaking her head and picking up her datapad again. She was more amused than annoyed by this act, but the proximity and the way he'd said "please" did other things to her. She considered moving away and caught herself in time.

 _You have permission to act on those things now._

They hadn't kissed since she had left him standing in the main hold, after he had comforted her—in his own particular way—and taken measures to help her sleep easy. Leia had to admit leaving the hatch open and having the sounds of voices from a broadcast cover those of the running engines had contributed to her falling asleep almost at once without the usual anxiety she felt whenever she lay down… but the growing intimacy between them—his caring for her coupled with his casual, comforting touching—had helped just as much. When she had showed up in the cockpit for her shift later on, he had merely asked how she had slept before heading off back to his bunk. Leia imagined he was more tired than he let on, considering he had barely slept since he'd gone in search of Luke. Still, she wished he had kissed her before leaving, to get her through the next four hours. It was kind of ridiculous how much she'd avoided even entertaining the idea of kissing him before, and how much she counted on it now.

'What I meant is, the _Falcon_ is like your home, isn't it?' she made herself ask, trying to banish her thoughts by reading over the information she had typed down so far. 'It'd make sense for you to have a galley in here, that's all.'

When Han didn't respond at once, she looked up. He was scowling at the deckplates, whether upset or considering her words, she couldn't decide, but she suddenly realised what she had implied.

'I'm sorry,' Leia said, touching his arm lightly, 'I didn't mean to say it was your _home_...' She trailed off. She knew Chewie had family back in Kashyyyk, and that Han was welcome there, but she was sure the _Falcon_ was the closest thing to home Han had. Although for all she knew about his past, which wasn't much, he could have an entire secret family she wasn't aware of. She filed that thought away as inconvenient.

Han shrugged, apparently not upset at her, just thinking.

'You're right, it's kinda home by now, but...' Leia had the impression that he was struggling with something. She wanted to ask what it was and help him bring it to the surface where they both could see it, but he decided to complete his sentence before she figured out what to say. 'It's also how I earn my credits and, like I said, cargo space is precious. Never found a good enough reason to add a galley.'

Leia deflated slightly at his somewhat predictable answer.

'Well, you'll have to consider adding one if you ever intend to get me on board again. I won't be able to look at another ration bar after this trip,' she commented offhandedly. She blanched when her brain caught up with her words. Of course he wouldn't have to do any of that. After this trip, she'd probably never be aboard the _Falcon_ again.

A beat passed where they sat still, not quite looking at each other. Leia wasn't sure how to save the moment and go back to the almost light-hearted conversation of before—or if she would rather drag the matter out and make both of them deal with it. Judging by the emotions flitting on his face, she thought Han didn't know how to proceed, either, most likely because he was trying to guess how _she'd_ want to proceed.

He settled for a lopsided smile and scooted closer, one hand braced on the floor next to her thigh as the other came to rest on her neck, his calloused thumb brushing over her jaw.

'I'll keep that in mind, sweetheart.'

Then he kissed her, and while she knew he'd done it mainly to deflect from the topic of his leaving, Leia wondered if he had wanted to kiss her again as much as she had. She was tempted to tell him all the things she'd like to forget just to see where it'd take her.

Making out while their heads were more or less at the same level was definitely more comfortable, Leia decided. There was something to be said about kissing someone much taller (or shorter) than yourself: neck pain. She probably had less to complain about than Han, who did all the bending, but this position also gave her better access. Her arms wrapped around Han's neck, and his hand left her face to find the small of her back, both of them pulling the other closer until her chest was pressed against his.

Unwittingly, she let out a groan, which turned into a muffled gasp as a clattering sound startled them into breaking apart. Leia turned her face away as she picked up her datapad, which had fallen from her lap, and tried to catch her breath.

'Um… so… even if there's no galley, we still have to eat,' she said, feeling almost dizzy as her heart pounded inside her chest. 'So I guess I should go back to…'

'Sure. Right. You do that. We don't wanna drink up all of that disgusting caf and run out of it just 'cause you didn't finish your inventory,' Han said, smirking.

'Oh, shut up. You don't want to be trapped inside this piece of junk with me without caf _and_ bored, do you?'

'When have you ever been bored around me, Princess?' Han asked, pushing himself to his feet. 'I'm sure we'll find something to keep us entertained.'

Grinning, he turned to leave, but calling him out on his bluffing was Leia's favourite tactic, so she said, 'Like what?'

Han turned back to her and shrugged, unfazed. 'I dunno, maybe I'll build you a galley.'

 _I'll keep that in mind, sweetheart._

Of course, she knew he had been joking, and she'd gladly share the illusion. It was easier to pretend that the ending of this trip wouldn't be any different from the ending of all the other trips they had shared before, that it wouldn't be the ending of _them_. But as Leia watched him leave, she couldn't help a small pang in her chest for the galley she'd never have the chance to see.


End file.
